When Carlos woke up, she was alone in the ward. Her belly twitched as if it had been stabbed and stirred by a sharp knife.

　　She lay motionless on the bed like a puppet. After a long time, she dared to touch her lower abdomen with her trembling hand, and the rough gauze rubbed her pale fingers.

　　There had been four children there.

　　However, they were all killed cruelly by Brody.

　　A teardrop slipped across her pale face. In the empty ward, there was a gentle sob.

　　"Oh, Brody hasn't come yet. Why are you crying?"

　　A sharp sneer sounded. Who else could it be if it weren't for her...